


Ransom's Sweaters - A Series

by Meracles



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Creampie, F/F, F/M, FxF, Handcuffs, Leather Kink, Light Bondage, Multiple Orgasms, Painting, Rough Sex, Spanking, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24055507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meracles/pseuds/Meracles
Summary: Inspired by the Cardigan/Sweater combos Ransom wears. One shot smut, no spoilers to movie plot. Pure unadulterated, unshameful smut without plot - enjoy.
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 64





	1. Sweater #1 - Hot & Shouty

The lights were low, making the mahogany walls of your bedroom even more soul-less. The Bordeaux that you sipped was deep red and warming as you relaxed back on the chaise longue, waiting for him. Ransom Drysdale.

You came from old money, a draw it seemed to a man like Ransom and he always came to your house when he wanted "company". Usually the occasions occurred when he'd had a disagreement with his family over one thing or another. The help always alerted you to his presence, unless he was in his storming mood and then you could hear him. So when he messaged you "I'm coming over." you were ready. The pearls tied round your neck loosely, lace La Perla Lingerie ready for him to rip off (which you allowed, because he bought it) mixed with a sheer black robe. Your hair was in loose waves, ready for him to pull.

You heard the front door slam shut and heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, stirring your nerves within your belly and lower. His husky call out "Where is she?" made you think he ran into one of the maids or the housekeeper. You lean over to pour another glass of wine, ready for whatever comes through the door.

As Ransom burst through your bedroom door, his heavy brown coat was in the process of being shrugged off as he made his way over to you. You managed a "Hello" as you stood up with the wine glass in your hand before he reached you, slapping the glass from your hand and pulling you into his grip, kissing you firmly, pushing his tongue into your waiting mouth. He lifts you off the floor, carrying you to the bed with a crunch of glass under his shoes before he drops you with no grace.

"You're wearing too much. Again." he huffed out. You bit back to the remark that he was also wearing too much - his white shirt covered by the cardigan you've worn on a morning when you go to the kitchen to get coffee before he left. They fitted him so perfectly, his chest stretching the fabric it made it so irresistible to touch. You knelt on the bed, pulling the robe from your shoulders but not enough to expose everything.

"What can I say, I like to see you frustrated."

"Oh, I'm frustrated already," his cardigan was dropped onto the floor, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing that aside. Your mouth watered as you looked over his pectorals speckled with hair, his biceps tensing as he clenched his fists. "The last thing I need is your game playing shit. Off. Now."

You obeyed, pulling the robe off your body and before you made any movement towards him, Ransom reached across the bed and grabbed your legs from underneath you, dragging you towards the edge of the bed. He wraps your legs round his waist, removing one hand to pull his belt undone. "Assume the position." he ordered, you obliging and resting your arms above your head. His belt became the tie around your wrist, the leather bound tight against your skin. You knew the marks would last a couple of days after your encounter and always remind you of him. It was always primal, a physical want between two players. Him always the cat, and you his mouse.

He leans over you, running his hands firmly over your breasts as he growls in his throat, eyes roaming your body as you're laid out for him. All for him to play with, be whatever he needs in that moment. Your eyes drop to the tent in his pants, a thrill of excitement coursing through your body as you think about how he feels when he thrusts his length into you, his relentless thrusts something you crave right in this moment.

He leans down and kisses you feverishly, all the anger boiling under the surface felt through his lips. His skin was warm under your lips as you kissed over his neck and shoulder, daring to graze your teeth in places, causing him to groan, pressing his cock against your core. He pulled your hair to move your head to his, mouth searching for yours while his hands came up and cupped your breasts through the lace, thumbs skimming over your peaked nipples causing you to shiver and arch to his touch.

You moan against his lips, your arms flinching instinctively to move off the bed but you remember to keep them in place, instead opting to pull him close between your legs and grind your pussy against his dick, causing him to growl out at the friction. He could feel your arousal, damp against the lace and seeping through against his cock.

"So wet for me aren't you," he teased, a dark edge to his tone that made you squeeze your fingers against the leather of his belt.

"It's been a while since you visited, just feeling you gets me so wet," you panted out to him, causing a smile to curl his lip for a brief second. His hands skims down to your panties, pulling them roughly down your legs.

"You're gonna feel me for weeks, you're going to scream my name." he murmured into your ear as his fingers felt over your folds. You buck into his touch instinctively, feeling the curve of his fingers as he starts to thrust them in and out, no care or love in his touch - purely to coax the orgasm out of you to drench his digits ready for his cock. His other hand presses down on the valley between your breasts, keeping you in place as he holds you in place with his weight.

"Fuck, Ransom-" your eyes squeezed tight, his pace and roughness on the cusp of pain but he knows. Even when he's losing it, he's careful enough to keep it pleasurable - just. "You're - you're hi-hitting it ri-" you try to speak but you can't think of anything but the pressure on your g-spot clouding your thought processes, switching to a loud moan to communicate how good your feeling, clenching against his fingers.

"That's it - ride it out. You're gonna cum for me, give it to me," he growls. "Like you always do."

Your body starts to tense up on his command, enjoying the feeling getting you closer and closer to the edge - sparks igniting behind your eyes when the nerve endings snap and your release comes, riding the thrusts out as you buck your hips, your juices squirting out and flooding over his fingers and beneath you on the bedspread. You're a mess as he withdraws his fingers, rubbing over your pussy lips and clit to spread out the wetness as you squirt. It goes over the sheets, his pants, your thighs as you jolt, mewling for him to stop as you're so sensitive. He spanks your pussy with a growl, wrapping his arms round your thighs and draw you closer, wasting no time in entering you.

He's thick, long enough to touch your cervix with a thrust and he's rough, grunting out as he's balls deep, pushing and pulling your body, using you for his pleasure now. His grip leaves your skin white from the pressure as he moves you on him. You're panting with each thrust, looking down your body as your breasts bounce, seeing his cock disappearing into you over and over, his shaft glistening with your arousal even in the dim light.

He lets out a grunt as he bottoms out and stills, making you feel all of him pressed against your walls. His face turns stern as he winds your pearl necklace round his hand, doubling you over to kiss you heated and messy. You can feel tight round your neck, pressing circled indents into your skin as he keeps you in place. You just start to enjoy the feeling of his lips before he pulls away, pulling out and flipping you over, spanking your ass hard as he moves your hips up off the bed to press against him. You rest on your elbows, back arched downwards as he thrusts back into you. If it's possible he's deeper, feeling him harder as his hands grasp at your hips, making you ride his cock at a speed that knocks out your breath. It's hot and heavy on your face as you are pressed into the sheet - a sheen of sweat coating your skin as your body is so wired to his touch. You know your body right now is all for him, to use and take his frustrations out on but you enjoy it. You enjoy the lack of control that comes with Ransom.

Your throat is sore from the moans, Ransom's hands cupping your ass and squeezing it as he watches his cock disappear.

"Such a good fucking ass..." he mutters, mostly to himself. You whine out, daring to roll your hips.

"Spank me," your voice is muffled in the fabric but he knows, his teeth gritting as he slaps his palm against the plump roundness of your ass.

"You don't get to tell me what to do - I'll spank you cause I wanna spank you." he lifted his hand again and smacked, the contact echoing in the bedroom. You squeal out, clenching at his cock and milking in, eager for his release.

"I-I wanna cum...!" you look over your shoulder, hoping the pleading in your watery eyes lets him grant you release. Ransom slams into you, groaning out guttural and loud as he tips his head back.

"Cum for me, soak me - show me who owns you." he commands, another spank to your ass as it spurs you on, the permission to lose control and your bouncing back onto his cock, riding it out as you moan out his name, shifting your wrists that pull on the leather to rest up your head and you're cumming, you're cumming hard over his cock, your thighs shuddering and vibrating.

Ransom holds your thighs to keep you up, continuing to slam his cock into you even when your pussy is squeezing him, and he gives a loud groan, pulling out and again flipping you to lay on your back and climbing the bed, cock in hand as he pumps his length, hot seed spurting out over your breasts so hard it shoots to your lips. You purr out, tongue darting out to taste him and humming before your body starts to climb down. Ransom rolls onto his back, panting out as he comes down from his own high.

"Can- can I have my hands back?" you manage to say, your voice coming out used and ragged as you indicate to your tied hands. He glances over with a smirk.

"Who says I'm done playing with you?"


	2. Sweater #2 ~ Tied Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the Cardigan/Sweater combos Ransom wears. One shot smut, no spoilers to movie plot. Pure unadulterated, unshameful smut without plot - enjoy.
> 
> A/N ~ okay this is technically not a focus on a sweater...but his scarf needed an honourable mention. Enjoy!
> 
> Reader's family hosting a Roaring 20s Party. Rough, unintentional creampie (not impreg)

The band struck up a lively jazz number and champagne corks were popping as you made your way downstairs. The Roaring 20's was one of your favourite gatherings your family threw every year, sequins and feathers donning all the women's clothing, the suits the gentlemen wore tailor-made and fitted. And the champagne towers - they were filled and anxiety-inducingly tall that each time you moved past them you gave them a wide berth. The hustle and bustle of the party was in full swing when you noticed the latecomer coming through the front door.

Ransom came in like he owned the place. You're unsure if he realised the dress code or whether he just didn't care because there was not a speck of the 20s vibe coming from his fashion choices. He had that same brown coat on, his multicoloured silk scarf draped round his neck (making you subconsciously rub your wrists as you remember the feel of it tying them up). Maybe the sunglasses he pulled from his eyes could have been the era in mind but right now you didn't exactly care. Picking up two glasses of champagne, you make a beeline for the Drysdale heir before any other woman set their eyes on him.

"Did you not get the memo on the dress code, Ransom?" you give a little smirk to your ruby red lips as you hold out the glass. He takes it, eyebrow raised and knocks back the fizz, discarding the empty glass on a nearby table.

"Didn't know." he simply said, turning his attention to your get up. The flapper girl beaded dress stopping short on your legs, strings of beads clinking quietly with each movement you made. You could see his jaw tick with annoyance when you purposefully shift your hips as you turned, the strings whipping in a circle and catching his legs.

"Pity, I bet you'd look good in a suit. Rather than those sweaters you wear to death."

Clearly the alcohol in your system put you in a daring mood because you reach out to one of the holes of his sweater, slipping two fingers through and running against the shirt underneath. He catches your wrist, squeezing lightly.

"We need to talk."

His tone catches you off guard, a look of confusion on your face as he suddenly starts to drag you gently up the stairs, ignoring any onlookers giving him dirty looks. You keep up with him, intrigued and a little aroused as your kitten heels skid on the hardwood floor as he continues to march you through your own house to your bedroom. He opens the door and just as quick pins you against it, back hitting hard mahogany as his body covers yours, palms flush on the panes and locks your door. He continues to gaze down at you, caging you between his arms and you can tell he's waiting for permission.

You begin to slowly wind his scarf round your hands and wrists, starting from the ends and towards his neck, all the while keeping your eyes fixed on his. When he feels the motions against his shoulders he draws your arms up above your head, a hint of a smile curving on his lips as he completes your motions and ties your hands together. Ransom takes his time running his hands down your arms to the sides of your breasts, cupping them and pressing them together as his eyes fixate on the valley they create.

"This dress new?"

"No- I mean it's vintage but-"

Your sentence is cut off with a gasp as the tear of fabric rings in your ears, beads spilling and scattering to the floor. He tips your head to a searing, forceful kiss, a grunt of approval when you know his hands are feeling over the lace bra beneath your now shredded dress. One hand cups the back of your neck and you hear the unmistakable clink of his belt as he unbuckles, zipper down and he's pulling out his semi-hard cock passed his briefs barrier and out of his pants.

You moan instinctively as you know what's coming next, your body heated and ready to succumb to everything he wants. Your ankle hooks round his calf and runs up his leg to draw him closer, letting out a small whine when you feel his full erection against your core. You're both panting as he scrambles his hands down, twisting you round and pressing your front against the door, pulling your panties to the side and he's pushing his tip towards your entrance, growling when he finds you damp with arousal and need to be filled.

"Fuck, you're always so wet..." he hisses as he slides in with ease, pushing the breath from your body as he traps you between the door and his solid form, body flush against yours as he starts his firm, hard thrusts into your pussy. You can hear the door jolting by his movements, the wood banging in the frame with each pump into you and you're gasping by his ear, muttering.

"God, Ransom...Fuck, fuck me hard..." you're pleading, and he growls in response, his hands squeezing round your hips to hold you in place and his own hips snap against you. He combs your hair back so he can watch your face contort in pleasure, watching each gasp leave your lips as you try to be quiet. The jazz band is loud - you can hear the trumpets below - but who knows who can be walking the other side of your door to use a bathroom, or a drawing room for their own privacy. The thrill of being heard starts to swirl in your mind and your let out another moan, your arms starting to get tired, so you bring them down a little the best you can.

For once, he doesn't scold you. Instead, he kisses your neck, his grip on your hips softening and he's running his palms against your sides to cup your breasts, sucking a mark just by your shoulder. This, he has never done before. Yes you have kissed and fucked and done all manner of things to each other but this; the way his face cradled against your neck and the way he held you felt softer, intimate. More than just a fuck.

It was brief, a fleeting action, because then his hand loops under your knee and you're spreading out for him, your dress riding up to around your hips and he's pounding harder into you. You're barely able to warn him as your pussy clenches his cock and you're milking him, pulsing as your orgasm sparks inside, each of your nerve endings on fire as your hips buck up to prolong the feeling, the door squeaking as you push against him, moaning breathless and low.

Ransom groans, pushing himself deep and stilling, your convulsing walls making him grunt out his own release, cursing as he cums inside you, spilling hot ropes of seed coating your walls.

"Fuck," he spits out, feeling the soft spray on your skin. You're quick to turn and kiss him again when he pulls out, muttering soothing words.

"It's fine, I'm on the pill remember?" you mutter quietly and he's looking at you with daggers behind his eyes. All sense of gentleness escaping as he's pulling away from your touch, tucking himself back in his pants.

"I know." he barks out, hair flopping forward a little before he combs it back. Suddenly he doesn't seem so in control and he's carelessly pulling you away from the door, but he still remembers to give you a brief kiss.

"I'll pick up the scarf later - I gotta go." he practically dashes out the door, leaving you confused and spent, flopping back on the bed. Then it hits you.

Did he want to talk about something? You think to yourself, tugging on the scarf bound to your wrists.

Damn. He ties a good knot too...


	3. Bonus: Leather & Metal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Leather & Metal” ~ Ransom enjoys being the voyeur of female company in the form of two girls nicknamed Leather and Metal.

The old leather creaked beneath his weight as Ransom settled on the oxblood chair, elbows rested on the arms as his gaze looked over the two women in front of him. One trussed up in a mixture of leather and latex; a full body suit covering her neck to toe, a leather corset bound tight to her waist and thigh high boots with heels spiked to a point. The other with black lace, the pattern sporadic enough to show the skin of her breasts and ass, suspenders stretched on milky thighs to hold up the stockings covering her thighs. Metal bracelets adorned her wrists as she knelt on his kingsize bed in front of him, the dim light from his bedside casting their shadows on one another as they waited for his instruction.

He brought his index fingers to his lips, studying over their forms with a hunger in his eyes they knew all too well. They played this game maybe once a month, swapping roles now and again, but someone always ended up in cuffs, and one person wearing the leather.

"What is your pleasure today Ransom?" Leather purred out as she played with a piece of Metal's hair, twirling it round her fingers. He gave a little smirk to the side of his mouth when he noticed her nipples beginning to peak.

"Someone's already getting into it huh?" he drawled out, voice low. "Tell me how she feels."

Leather smiled and obliged, fingers trailing down the valley of breasts and over her stomach, Metal beginning to breath more rapidly when fingers slide down the front of her panties, slipping between her folds. A drawn out moan left Leather's lips as she nipped at her earlobe, beginning to circle her nub and feeling the excitement slicking her digits.

"She feels real good Ransom - don't you wanna try? Or taste?"

Ransom's jaw clicks as he clenches it. But he doesn't move, doesn't squirm to give them the satisfaction that he could feel his blood running hot. Maybe it was the sweater he was still wearing but his eyes keep on them both. Watching as Metal began to lower her hips to sit back on her feet, chasing the touch that's swiping at her clit and making her moan and whine, head tipping back when Leather takes hold of her hair, bunching it in a ponytail and capturing her lips in a firm heated kiss, making her swallow the moan she lets out.

It wasn't long until Metal was whining out a high-pitch moan, tongues dancing between soft pouting lips and Ransom can see the tell-tale signs of shuddering thighs, body beginning to convulse when nerve endings are tantalised over and over to the point when she's pull at the cuffs to try and stop Leather's fingers.

"Don't stop." Ransom ordered from his seat, leaning more forward and Metal's head shoots forward, body doubling over as she continues to cry out in pleasure, pussy sensitive and pulsing and clenching from over-stimulation. He's close enough to cup her jaw, urging her to look him in the eye. Her body is still convulsing and she's pleading - begging - for it to stop.

"Please, p-please Ransoms it's...it's too much..." she whines out. Leather had moved to behind her, gripping the cuffs with her free hand as the other continued to stimulate. He gives a grin and looks up to Leather, giving a nod and the pleasure stopped, causing Metal to pant out in relief.

Ransom stood, gripping his sweater from the back of his neck and pulling it off over his head, along with his shirt and began to unbuckle his belt as the girls looked on, a smirk dancing over Leather's face as she cooed Metal, brushing her hair from her face soothingly.

"Look sweetie - Daddy's gonna play..." she muttered against the shell of her ear.


End file.
